Shadow of a Life

by Tifani Clark

  *****

  The rest of the week actually flew by and before I knew it, Friday was upon us. The last day of school was always a half day and, in my opinion, a waste of time. It wasn’t like we actually did any work. We spent time signing yearbooks and goofing off. The teachers didn’t even try to quiet us or discipline anyone because they were just as excited as we were for the end of the year.

  Sophia had gone to school with me every day that week . . . sort of. She never actually came to any classes, but she showed up between them and ate lunch with Cam and I every day. I wondered what she carried around in her backpack. I doubted it was textbooks. On Wednesday I asked her where she went when she wasn’t with me. It turned out there’s a whole network of ghosts that work together when needed. Who knew? Ghosts who were adults when they died could easily get a home and a job if they desired and live somewhere until people started to notice that they weren’t aging, and then they would just move on. Teenagers and children had it a little harder because the non-aging issue was a lot more noticeable. So, the younger looking ghosts would adopt friends who would claim to be parents when needed and sometimes they would even stay together. That was Sophia’s case. When she got to town, she met ghosts by the name of Jack and Rita and hung out at their home most of the time she wasn’t with me. She offered to introduce me to them, but I thought one ghost was enough for me to deal with right then.

  On my way to Mr. Hanover’s biology class, Peter Ashby stopped and asked if I could sign his yearbook. He was at least six inches taller than me with dirty blonde hair and a skinny build. He was one of those guys that had no trouble making friends and knew everyone. And I was madly in love with him. Too bad he had no idea and I had no intention of ever telling him. I signed his book with a shaky hand. Sophia started laughing before he’d even walked away.

  “What?” I glared.

  “You like him.”

  “I do not. He’s just someone from the neighborhood. I’m surprised he even knows my name.”

  “Ha,” she guffawed. “In the few weeks since I’ve been watching you, Peter has said ‘Hi’ six times, talked to you twice, and smiled at you in the hall nine times. Every single time you had contact with him you blushed, just like you did when he asked you to sign his yearbook just now. You didn’t blush with any others guys.”

  Stunned, I didn’t know what to say. My crush on Peter dated all the way back to the fourth grade when he first moved to Marion, and no one—especially Peter—had ever picked up on it. Even Camille, who knew me better than anyone, had never caught on. When we were kids I thought we were destined to be together because his first name was Peter and my last name was Peters. The childhood fantasy had never faded.

  “Whatever.” It was the best I could come up with in that short amount of time.

  “It’s true.” Camille giggled. “I’ve wondered about it for years. You do blush every time you talk to Peter.”

  Of course, now she decides to side with Sophia.

  “Can we please just go to class? I’d like to end this school year so I can get on with my life.” I really hoped no one in the hallway heard our conversation. I would be mortified if someone told Peter that I liked him. I doubted I was his type and he’d probably never consider asking me out. And I definitely didn’t want him to do it out of pity.

  At the end of the day, after much cheering and rejoicing from the entire student body when the last bell rang, Camille and I climbed on the bus. Jubilation filled the air and everyone squirmed in their seats. Yearbooks passed up and down the rows and paper airplanes flew through the air. I got nailed in the head by the airplanes and a couple of books. The bus driver ignored everyone and pulled his visor down farther so that he didn’t have to look at us.

  Camille glowed in her seat. “So, what are we doing tomorrow for our first day of summer break? We could go to the swimming pool, the beach, go on a picnic, or shop for summer clothes at the mall, but please don’t suggest we go to the library. I know. Maybe we could—”

  “Actually,” I cut her off, “I promised Sophia that I’d take her to visit some historical sites in Marion.”

  Camille waited expectantly. I knew she wanted an invitation to go along, but I just couldn’t give it. That time I really felt bad. I didn’t want to hurt Camille, but I couldn’t exactly bring her along without her questioning what we were doing.

  “You know, just forget it. I can see when I’m not wanted. You and Sophia have a spectacular summer together and maybe I’ll see you around school next year . . . or maybe not.” Camille spat the words out, jumped off the bus, and quickly began walking down the road to her home.

  “Camille,” I called, trying to push through the dispersing crowd to run after her, but she just kept walking. I shook my head and stood on the sidewalk watching her go. Surprisingly, it was the first time we’d ever had a fight and I didn’t know how to react.

  “Everything okay?”

  Startled out of my thoughts I whipped my head around to see Peter Ashby standing next to me. I could feel the blush creep out immediately.

  “It’s fine. Just a little disagreement.”

  “Wow. And all these years I thought you two were attached at the hip. Who knew?” Peter laughed.

  I tried to fake a smile, but it wasn’t very convincing.

  “So . . . what are your plans for the summer?”

  I shrugged.

  “I was thinking that it might be fun if, you know, we umm . . . hung out sometime this summer.” Peter stumbled over his words and stared at his feet.

  I was stunned. My throat felt as if it was closing off, but I managed to blurt out, “I’d like that—text me sometime,” before I turned and jogged the remaining block to my house. It should have been one of the happiest moments of my life, but the pain I felt from knowing that I might have just lost my best friend ruined that.